Clean Up
by Cadence
Summary: Follow up to Maximum Vol.5 - Meryl, a basket, flowers, and forgiveness.


the manga is driving me nuts

**Clean Up**

The sundered walls of the building stood in harsh, torn contrast to the brackish night that flooded the sky. The pieces, still crumbling to rest on unchanged soil, gleamed a dull white -hollow - as they were pushed methodically to the side. Silly human hope found wanting in the destruction the day had seen. Nothing they built stood long, but that was the fault of vice, not the stale environment as some would claim.

Silent and as blank as her colorless surroundings, Meryl stood amongst the rumble. Her cape fluttered slightly in a faux wind that couldn't bring power enough to define itself in the darkness. Her grey eyes were slanted, downcast at the cheap whicker basket clutched between her hands.

It felt silly, but the stupid little token was a lifeline. A fascinating meditation on her life and the man who worked diligently and ignorant of her a few meters away. A jumble that seemed to make sense just straining at the bounds of rightness that she just couldn't ever seem to understand. A little focus. Just one tiny moment. If she looked at reality, at life and the scheme of things, she'd see something beyond the basket that might be a crushed building which maybe she shouldn't be in.

Maybe she shouldn't be in his life, either. She shied from that thought, concentrating on the basket.

Meryl had brought him dinner. In a basket, like a little girl in a fairy tale or some other absurd Earth-tale that no one except him remembered. Her eyes scanned over the details of the bleached weave, noting it's defects; commercial flaws.

It wasn't hers. It was complementary of the hospital, filled with tiny, water efficient flowers that hadn't cost anything to grow. It was Milly's and she felt guilty taking it.

Beside the sandwiches she'd tucked into it and nearly crushed by the donuts she didn't have the heart to leave out was a small sprig of those flowers. Pale blue. Meryl stroked the edge of a petal, peeking over the basket's rim, with the side of a finger. She wondered if Milly had just forgotten to take them out.

"Vash?" she called hesitantly, thinking vaguely of the flowers and dinner.

Something crunched softly under his feet. Meryl blinked, looking up to meet his startled gaze. No, not startled. A careful play of it.

Impulsively, she slipped the flowers from the basket. She thought he'd like them.

Vash dusted bits of stucco from his coat, taking a few steps toward her, "Why are you here?"

Meryl's hand tightened around the flowers and she shoved them behind herself. Grinning quickly, she covered, "I can't just let you starve after doing all this work, can I?" Her eyes flicked needlessly over the scene, and she puffed out an angry breath. "Especially by yourself. Did that bum ditch you?"

Vash looked at her, eyebrows furrowed slightly, "Wolfwood went back to visit Milly."

A tiny leaf fell victim to her nervous thumbnail behind her back, shredding with green wetness. Meryl blinked, suddenly repressing tears. Her eyes found the basket again and her hands noted the wicker threads were sharp, digging into soft flesh.

"I know," she whispered.

It was quiet again - Meryl had never realized how much she hated it before. Finally there was a rustling of his coat, and knowing the way he moved Meryl hoped that the sound was for her. Comfort to drive away stillness.

"Thank you."

"What?" she asked, hating the quaver in her voice.

He smiled a little, soft and shy, "For coming back."

She forgot to hide the flower, letting it hang in her shocked grip by her side, "Where else would I go?"

Slowly, he stepped closer to her, "I don't know." Another step, eliminating more of that uncertain distance. "Home." Step. Meryl caught her breath. "Somewhere safe."

He was _so_ close. The basket slipped against her hand. And Vash's gloved hand closed over it, saving it just shy of falling. If he felt the sweat tingling on her fingers, he didn't comment.

She shook her head, "It's not your fault I was kidnaped." He opened his mouth and she cut him off, "No. It wasn't. Maybe it was because we're traveling together, but I'm free in my choices. So it was _my_ fault.."

Meryl glared at him, challenging, "So do you understand that, or was your thank you an empty bid for forgiveness?"

Vash smiled again, light in his eyes, "Thank you."

She pressed her flowered hand against his chest, "You're forgiven."

His long fingers curled around hers, "And so are you." He grinned, "Just don't let it happen again."

endnotes: That really sucked, didn't it? And it started out so promising. As you can tell, the manga has been driving me nuts lately. Even though I don't like this, I might have to write a follow up dealing with chapter 41. That _really_ needs some explanation.

Trigun is copyright (c) Yasuhiro Nightow and Young King Ours. 


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